


Scars

by Pixail



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 18:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17146799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixail/pseuds/Pixail
Summary: She has been there since the beginning; his only friend in a time of uncertainty and fear, his only comfort in a time of harshness and bleakness, and the only one who will look at his face and see something more than a horribly scarred man with a scary-looking sword on his back.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little experimental fic that I've been toying with over the past few days. I'm mostly posting it just to see what I can do, and whether I feel good enough about this to post more in the future. I'm a little apprehensive about posting this, but here I am anyway. Please leave your thoughts down below. It means a lot to me to have my work reviewed.

Link gently ran his bruised fingers across his face, giving a small gasp when the cold leather of his gauntlet brushed against his skin. He scarcely recognized the man staring blankly back up at him from the gently rippling water.

His face was a mask of imperfections; a sea of ridges and blemishes that stained his once soft and boyish skin. A chunk of his nose was missing, and one of his ears lacked an end. 

He skimmed over every blemish; every imperfection that caused people to flinch and snap their gazes towards the ground at the mere sight of him. 

Link had never cared about his appearance until it had started to affect others. 

Nothing hurt him more than seeing someone shy away from him, afraid. Nothing hurt him more than seeing somebody glance at his face and back away, terrified by what they saw. 

Ilia had been the most painful. 

The reason he set off on his journey in the first place. She, who had been his best friend, whom he would give his life to have back, had wordlessly rejected him after laying eyes on him for the first time since she took an arrow in the back. He remembered crying that night, finally letting loose all the anger and grief he had kept bottled up for the entirety of his journey.

She didn’t even remember him. 

He didn’t like to think about that time, and he would always abruptly change the subject if his many conversations with Midna ever drifted in that direction. 

He could not get it out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. 

Her green eyes, always so full of life, were frightened and uncertain. They had flickered over the many imperfections that etched themselves into his face over the course of his journey, and her lip quivered. 

A shadow crept over the water’s surface, and Link glanced up to see Midna’s face only a few inches from his own, her large amber eyes softened in concern, with an unasked question forming on her lips. 

Link gave her a smile, his sign for _I’m fine._ She coyly returned his grin, but it quickly faded when she glanced down at the water’s surface, and realization dawned on her face as she caught on to what he had been doing. 

“Were you thinking about Ilia?” She inquired, her tiny hands joined behind her back. 

Ilia. She had called her by her name, and not “the girl,” as she so often did. Link could do nothing but nod sadly. 

Silence followed, neither side sure of what to say. 

Link’s eyes flitted over to his companion, and their gazes briefly locked before he hastily looked away, his cheeks reddening slightly. He knew she was waiting for him to say more, but his mouth produced no words. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. He knew it was foolish, but there was still a small part of him that was terrified that Midna might shy away from him upon seeing his face; that she’d reject him as Ilia did. 

He shook his head. 

Midna had never cared about the scars. 

She alone had never flinched. 

She had been there, with him, for each one; able to count how many there were and recall exactly how and when he received them. 

There were some times in which he wished she did flinch, so he would have an excuse to dislike her as he used to when they first met, as opposed to… whatever it was he felt towards her now. 

He wasn’t sure when he had started to feel something for his otherworldly friend. Perhaps it was during the many times she had cleaned his wounds, her eyes widening with alarm. Perhaps it was whenever he woke up with her snuggled between his arm and his side, her breathing soft and even. Or perhaps it was because, when she looked at his face, she did not shy away. She did not drop her gaze when she looked at him. She always held it, her eyes filled with affection. It had taken him a long time to realize that she cared. 

“She’s wrong, you know.” she growled. Link raised an eyebrow, but did not respond. 

“Ilia doesn’t know what you’ve been through, how many vile things you’ve had to experience, or-- or how many monsters you’ve had to kill.” 

Midna’s trembling hands clenched into fists as she stared furiously at the rippling water, as if she could summon Ilia’s image from the blue depths. 

“She doesn’t know a damn thing about what you’ve had to do, and how you got those marks, or why you’re constantly disappearing and ‘foolishly putting yourself at risk,’ as little Miss Perfect puts it…” her voice quavered. 

Link’s mind scrambled for something to say in response, to defend his childhood friend, but a smaller, stronger part of him forced the opposing side to stay quiet. 

“Link, you listen to me.” Midna demanded, her eyes wild. Link hastily nodded as her piercing orange gaze snapped to him. “You’d better know that whatever the hell is on your face that’s got people so terrified doesn’t change anything. You’re still you.” She lightly jabbed his chest with one of her tiny fingers, her face inches from his own. “You’re still the same Link that-- that she loves. If she can’t see that, then…” she trailed off, her gaze sliding back to the water’s surface. “I just… please don’t let what she thinks bother you.” she murmured. “I like the Link that I know.” 

Link stared longingly at his friend. More than anything, he wanted to tell her that he liked her too; that he loved everything about her. He wanted to tell her that she was the most important person in his life, and that he would give anything to spend as much time as he could with her. He would give anything to make her understand. 

She had always seen herself as an ugly little creature. As much as she tried to hide it, Link always saw how insecure she felt about herself. He hadn’t realized it, but she had been going through the same issues he had. A memory that would stick with him for the rest of his life was of Midna, her large orange eyes glistening with tears as she miserably pondered how she would appear to her fellow Twili if she came back to the Twilight Realm looking as hideous as she did on that cold, wet night months ago.

Link had never cared about her looks. 

When he was a boy, Rusl had told him that he should always compliment women, as many of them needed to hear it. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

Silence. He had expected her to laugh at him, or at least give him a weird look. What he hadn’t expected was for her to hastily wipe her eyes and throw her arms around him. 

Link had been sure he would receive some sort of verbal lashing, but forgot all about that in an instant as he felt her tiny, warm body press against his; her tiny heart beating against his chest, her face buried in his shoulder. 

When they finally broke apart, she slowly glanced up at him, and shyly brushed away a small strand of orange hair and tucked it behind her ear; a nervous tick of hers. 

He gently pulled her back into the embrace, and softly kissed her forehead. She giggled, lightly batting him away as if to scold. Link sniggered. 

Midna had never cared about his scars. 

And he loved her for it.


End file.
